


Charm You with a Smile

by sarahandthegraveyardshift



Series: Motel Hell Chronicles [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: But I have promises to keep, M/M, Murder Husbands, The woods are lovely dark and deep, and miles to go before i sleep, the boys go for a romp, these boys I swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:09:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29565213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahandthegraveyardshift/pseuds/sarahandthegraveyardshift
Summary: A clawed hand, suddenly, twists into his shirt, and the wind is knocked from him as he's slammed into a tree. He stills as the hand wraps around his neck, tightening and forcing him to lift his chin. He breathes heavily, waiting as the quiet of the woods closes in on him.[The woods are lovely dark and deep.]
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Motel Hell Chronicles [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1742245
Comments: 11
Kudos: 116





	Charm You with a Smile

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovely! My goodness, I'm so happy you're here! I hope you are doing well and staying warm and-
> 
> I have made an error...
> 
> So in the third part of this series, "Hole in the World," I refer to the beasty that Stiles kills in the very beginning of the fic as a _succubus._ As I have been doing more research into supernatural baddies, I have realized that a succubus actually takes the form of a woman when it lures its victims. Being that the creature takes the form of Peter to try and seduce Stiles, he is actually an _incubus,_ which takes the form of a man. I have since gone back and edited my faux pas, but I just wanted to point out my mistake because in this particular part, I do mention another incubus, and I didn't want to confuse anyone. And, of course, if you know anything that I don't, please don't hesitate to tell me! I tend to write by the seat of my pants, and if Google doesn't have the answer, I make up my own..
> 
> We live and we learn, my friends! It is a part of life! I hope you enjoy this next installment! I have plans for two more after this (the last one is my absolute favorite, I'm not gonna lie!!!!).

Stiles runs.

The woods are dense and dark around him. He barely keeps himself from stumbling as branches and twigs snag against his clothing, scratch at his arms and his face. 

“Fuck!” he curses as his foot twists and he nearly loses his balance. He keeps going, keeps running, keeps breathing. His pursuer isn't far behind.

He hears the shuffle of leaves and changes direction, dodging a few large, rusted bear traps that have been snapped closed—for a while, it seems. They've clearly been abandoned. Leaves kick up around him as he slides between a couple of trees, scratching his hands as he pushes off the bark of another for leverage. He's nearly back to the road.

A clawed hand, suddenly, twists into his shirt, and the wind is knocked from him as he's slammed into a tree. He stills as the hand wraps around his neck, tightening and forcing him to lift his chin. He breathes heavily, waiting as the quiet of the woods closes in on him.

“You make too much noise,” Peter says as he leans into Stiles's line of vision. “You could have made it a little more of a challenge.”

“Fuck you.” Stiles smirks, pushing at Peter's chest playfully and catching his breath as the man takes a step away. “The ground's covered in leaves. How am I supposed to _not_ make noise out here?”

Peter glances around them instinctively, listening for anything nearby. “I've taught you how. You stomped your way through these woods like that on purpose.”

“Of course I did.” The spark squares his shoulders and removes his shirt, undoing the buckle of his belt. “That thing has to find us for this to work.”

An incubus. It's been terrorizing the backwater town's woods for the last decade or so, praying on teenagers who don't heed the warnings of disappearances and wander off to do nasty things in the dark. Stiles can't say he blames them—there really is nothing else to do in this town. Their shitty motel doesn't even have wifi.

Peter's attention is drawn back to the younger man as he kicks his jeans away from him. The werewolf's eyes glow brightly as he watches Stiles smirk and lean back against the tree behind him, arms raised and wrists crossed like they're being held there. 

“Ready for round three?” the spark asks in amusement. They've fucked a couple times already in different parts of the woods looking for this damn creature—Peter's cum is still in Stiles's underwear.

The werewolf stalks forward, removing his shirt and standing in front of Stiles as he eyes him up and down. He reaches a hand forward, stroking his fingers from the younger man's hip bone up to his neck. 

Stiles's eyes flutter shut, and his chest shudders on a breath. “How do you want me?” 

Peter drops to his knees, fingers clenching into the waistband of Stiles's boxer-briefs. “Just as you are,” he says, pulling the underwear down slowly. Stiles shivers as Peter helps him step out of them. There's cum and lube on his thighs still, and it cools in the chill of the air. “Magnificent.” 

Stiles can't control the noise that escapes him as Peter swallows him down. The adrenaline from the run and the sensitivity of having come twice already overload his senses. The man's pace is relentless as he bobs up and down, hollowing his cheeks and using his tongue to swirl along his shaft.

“Fuck!” he pants, forcing himself to focus on their surroundings. They are, after all, on a hunt. A really great hunt, as far as he's concerned. If all their hunts were like this, he wouldn't complain so much about the traveling. 

Peter, suddenly, lifts one of Stiles's legs, holding tight as he roughly pushes two fingers into the young man down to the last knuckle. Stiles's fingers scratch uselessly against bark, and his moans echo into the trees. If the incubus doesn't hear that, he must be deaf. Peter starts a punishing rhythm, rubbing against the bundle of nerves inside the younger man that makes him see stars behind his eyes. Between that and the pressure of Peter's mouth, Stiles comes with a shout, trembling as the man sucks him through his orgasm.

Peter releases him and swallows, taking a moment to stare up at the shivering young man. The jut of his hipbones and the plains of his taught, well-muscled stomach, the V leading down to his groin, the line of his jaw. All places that Peter has touched, licked, kissed, bitten. 

Stiles looks down at him and smirks through his pleasure-haze, running his fingers through the older man's hair and tugging until he stands and covers his body with his own. Peter leans in, intent on capturing those lips, but the spark stops him with another tug of his hair.

“On my word,” Stiles whispers against his lips, and Peter's focus sharpens. His grip on Stiles's sides tightens, and he breathes against the other's mouth until Stiles suddenly releases him with a quick, “Now.”

Peter spins, claws out, and slashes through the throat of the figure standing just behind him. The incubus is wearing his face, no doubt having had plans to kill Peter and have his way with Stiles. The thought makes the werewolf growl, and he shoves his claws into the creature's neck again for good measure. It makes a strangled noise as it falls back into the leaves, moving sluggishly as blood pours from its wounds.

Stiles runs his hands over Peter's heaving shoulders soothingly, rubbing his back as he moves around him to better look at the incubus. He steps forward until his feet are on either side of the things's chest, then goes down to his knees to straddle it and look into its eyes as it chokes. He remembers the first incubus he and Peter had taken down together, how he'd been so unsure for a moment whether the creature was Peter or not. But he knows now. Could never mistake another for his 'wolf. His mate.

“Hm,” he hums, looking up at Peter for reference. “He's not as pretty as you are.”

Peter chuckles and shakes the blood from his claws. “Hurry and finish with him,” he says, grinning wide. “Because you still need to finish with me.”

Stiles laughs and stands, fingers moving in a simple gesture that conjures his runed baseball bat to his hand. Another wiggle of his fingers, and the bat suddenly has a wide blade attached to the end of it, giving it the look of a make-shift axe. “Duty calls,” he shrugs, bringing the weapon down on the creature's head.

**Author's Note:**

> Dang. I missed out on so many Little Red Riding Hood references...
> 
> My friend, I hope you are safe and well and taking care of yourself!! Even if it's just something small, like putting on your favorite hoodie or curling up with a book and a warm blanket or making yourself something yummy to eat/drink. Or reading endless amounts of Steter, like I do!!!
> 
> You are loved so, so much, and I hope the beautiful light that you shine on this world stays bright and gorgeous! Have an amazing day! All the good vibes to you!


End file.
